


Skin

by justEvieC



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Deaf, Deaf Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28382451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justEvieC/pseuds/justEvieC
Summary: Ben and Callum need each other.They love each other, protect each other, take the weight for each other and they drive each other crazy.But under everything, they are closer than skin.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 72
Kudos: 102





	1. Bella

Storm Bella beats at the window panes, rattling the frames and pounding relentlessly on the glass. Callum has been lying awake, his right arm happily trapped under his boyfriend's head, listening to Bella attack the house, for hours: worrying about wayward roof tiles, the flimsy back gate and Lexi's brand new bike (a Christmas present from her doting dads) in the yard. Forever on guard, Callum pulls the covers up to Ben's sleepy head and strokes his tangled, lock down-locks, tucking them behind his ear as the love of his life snuggles into his protector's big, strong hand, subconsciously caressing his cheek to Callum's palm while he sleeps soundly. 

***

Ben's phone vibrates furiously on the bed next to his soft, duck-down pillow, buzzing its greeting of a brand-new day. He drearily rolls over; yawning, stretching and radiating pure felicity as Callum, dressed in his grey boxers and black t-shirt and Ben's dressing gown, comes into view in the window, a halo of sunshine illuminating his scruffy morning-hair and two day-old stubble - Ben's favourite look on his lover.

Glasses on, Ben cocks his head to one side as he notices the tools dwarfed in Callum's hands, followed by the TV in the corner with scrolling headlines flashing a WARNING, and Lexi darting in and out of the bedroom in a bright yellow rain coat and green spotty wellies. In the silence and tranquillity of Ben's thoughts, pieces begin to slot together like a jigsaw. 

Clicking his processor into place, the real world comes screaming into every corner of his mind at volume level 11, and the day begins.  
"... Lexi to your mum's then we need an emergency trip to B&Q. Bella rearranged the roof last night," Callum panics, dropping onto the bed and running one hand through his wild hair while steadying his nerves with the other hand on the ruffled quilt. Ben places his hand on Callum's. Skin against skin, they breathe. 

***

B&Q is heaving when they arrive. Ben and Callum make their way around, buying more than they really need, as they argue silently yet emphatically with their hands and Ben casually slaps Callum's tight behind by way of winning, drawing the attention of customers and shop assistants alike. Taking charge of the situation (and knowing he’ll be the one to complete the work anyway), Callum places his hand under Ben’s chin, gently turning his head towards the next lane to refocus him, then takes him by the hand to complete their intended mission.  
“So you want to take me up the aisle, do ya?” Ben bites his bottom lip and gazes directly into Callum’s big, blue eyes for just a little too long, until Callum caves, grins, chuckles and walks towards the piles of roof tiles.

Lugging their DIY haul to the checkout, Ben begins laying out items on the conveyor belt and nods a greeting to the cashier who mumbles something from behind a mask, a visor and a plexiglass screen. Furrowing his brow, Ben asks the guy to repeat but it makes no difference. His implant works, sure, but Ben has come to learn that hearing is so much more than just sound.  
The shop-assistant repeats. Beads of sweat begin forming on his forehead, his palms become slick and his breath ragged behind his ‘The Show Must Go On’ facemask (a joke Christmas present from Kathy but with beautiful childhood memories attached). Just as the cashier repeats for the 4th time and his heart feels as though it will burst through his chest, Callum’s hand brushes the back of Ben’s head, skin on skin, and he can breathe again.

***

With Lexi finally in bed after ‘just one more chapter’ three times, by way of a few more moments with Daddy, Ben strolls into the bedroom to find a towel-clad boyfriend cleaning muck out from under his nails from an afternoon of roof repair. The thoughts going through Ben’s head are clearly as dirty as Callum’s nails.  
“Early night?” Ben questions, hopefully, hands stroking his boyfriend’s muscular, aching shoulders.  
“Yeah. You, me and Bella,” Callum chuckles, tilting his head to the side to caress his cheek to the back of Ben’s hand, and the nightly routine commences. 

Callum wears his worried face: eyebrows knitted together, lips pursed, eyes darting around the room, aware of the battering the house is beginning to take as Bella warms up outside.  
“It’s alright for you – you’d sleep through an earthquake!” Callum gently jokes, as Ben tries to soothe the worries he can see his boyfriend clearly has stampeding through his brain.  
“Nah. I’d feel an earthquake,” Ben winks and lays a soft kiss on Callum’s forehead, before they both snuggle down, Ben’s hand on Callum’s hip, under his t-shirt. An anchor.  
Ben sleeps on in blissful ignorance of the night Callum is about to experience.


	2. Old Year's Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bella raged again and Callum spent the night with Dan, the roofer, ensuring his family are protected from the storm.
> 
> On the last day of 2020, are Callum's thoughts on the old year gone by or the opportunities of the new year to come?

Sunlight streams in through the wide-open curtains, flooding the cluttered room with midday sun, heralding the last day of 2020. Callum perches on the end of the bed, phone in one hand, the ‘Add new contact’ screen glaring at him, and in the other is the scrap of torn-off tape with Dan's digits scrawled across it in permanent marker. Callum feels Ben’s warm hand stroke the back of his head, startling him, grounding him, bringing him back to the real world with a bump and he hastily shoves both under the covers

A signed exchange of ‘Good morning’ and processor clicked into place and Ben’s suddenly acutely aware that it’s a lot later than he was used to waking.  
“11.56? Did you turn my alarm off?” Ben demands, partly in anger, but mostly just thankful for the rest – Lexi is a handful when cooped up, day-in-day-out.   
“Why didn’t you wake me?”  
“Wake you? Wake you? You literally slept through a storm last night! And the roof falling apart. I even had to get emergency roofer, called Dan, out to fix my ‘handiwork’ and to stop the sky falling into the bedroom!” Callum states, realising the addition of Dan’s name was unnecessary and quickly waves emphatically at the bucket, step-ladder and tarpaulin in the corner of the room.

Ben dresses in a hurry at the promise of bacon sarnies for lunch (or should that be ‘breakfast’ to Ben?) shushes his stomach when it growls loudly enough for Lexi to hear from the hallway and balances on the end of the bed to don the affectionately named ‘grandad slippers' Lola bought him for Christmas as a joke. Joke’s on her – they’re amazingly comfy! A crumple emanates from under the duvet. Ben slides his hand under to find the source, and retrieves a piece of tape and Callum’s phone

“Hey babe? Who’s number is this and why is it in our bed?” Ben shouts in Callum’s direction. “Why do I shout questions to another room when I know I won’t hear the reply?” Ben chastises himself. Thankfully, Callum returns from the bathroom before offering a response, knowing how best to communicate with his partner.

“Yeah , well, if we get a slightly breezy night and the new roof doesn’t hold, I wanna be able to contact Dan as quick as poss!” Callum defends, waving the comment, and the attention, away with a nonchalant flick of his wrist.  
“Of course. Everyone needs a ‘Dan’ on speed dial,” Ben retorts with a swift raise of the eyebrows and a casual wink, leaving Callum to watch his lover walk away. He remains in the doorway, confused and un-nerved, pondering the contents of his boyfriend’s phonebook. Jealously stirs in his soul. His heartbeat quickens. His palms moisten. His thoughts move the new addition to his own phonebook. He quickly shakes the thought from his mind with a literal shake, like a soggy dog casting off the downpour to step into the dry. 

***

The final day of 2020 in the Mitchell household is spent playing boardgames, watching old video footage of Christmases past, reminiscing on easier times and lost loves and contemplating the good things to come from this awful year. At every opportunity, Ben finds his hands on Callum; a grounding wire, an earth and root to home. Eventually, Lexi yawns deeply and rubs her tired little eyes. Callum scoops her up from the arm chair, pulls her close and kisses her head.  
“Time for bed, little one,” he whispers. And, with absolutely no fight left in her, she lays her head on his shoulder and mutters,  
“Okay, Daddy C.” Callum stoops so mummy and daddy can kiss her good night, then disappears upstairs with their daughter in his arms.

***

With every intention of seeing the new year in, Callum and Ben wake as the credits of the Drag Race box set plays; Chinese takeout left-overs still on the coffee table and nothing but the lights from the Christmas tree to illuminate the room. Ben’s head lays against Callum’s heart, his hand on his chest. He feels the rhythmic beating and breathes in time. An enormous gust of wind batters against the livingroom window and an almighty crash in the yard startles the men and they jump to their feet. Seeing that a roof tile has dislodged and flown from the newly repaired roof and landed heavily just outside the window, Callum swears quietly under his breath.  
“I guess you need Dan again,” Ben offers.  
Pulling Ben close, hands first clasping his boyfriend’s head, then around his shoulders, while Ben’s arms pull around Callum’s waist, under his shirt, hands on the skin of his back, Callum gazes into the eyes of his soul mate and utters,  
“All I need is you."


	3. Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Extended) family dinner at the Michell's and Ben is not waving but drowning in a sea of voices. So the couple escape to the pub for some quiet, but Callum bumps into a familiar face.

Ben zones out. He sits, staring past Callum’s right shoulder but at nothing in particular, expression glazed over and mind completely blank. Callum moves into his eye-line and smiles.  
“Where did you go?” Callum signs, brushing Ben’s leg with his foot, under the crowded dinner table.  
“Nowhere. I’m right here!” Ben snaps, pulling his leg away and tucking both feet under his chair. 

Sitting in the middle of the table, drowning in a sea of noise, Ben lets the voices wash over him, not even trying to make sense of the jumbled sentences of the three different conversations going on around the room. Lexi and Phil sit at one end, debating classic authors verses contemporary (Lexi’s smitten with David Walliams but Phil insists she read every Roald Dahl book ever published). Ian and Kathy at the opposite end, with Peter and Bobby, argue whether Bridgerton is appropriate viewing for a family Sunday – Bobby cringing at the thought of having to endure sex scenes on the TV with his dad and his gran in the room and no means of escape. Lola and Jay, although no longer an item, reminisce on Lola’s stunning ‘lockdown lasagne’ and how it would be a marked improvement on Phil’s Sunday dinner – the roasted spouts had not gone down well! Ben eats, smiles at seemingly appropriate points and nods in agreement when others do. Callum sees these familiar tells on his boyfriend – the smiles, the nods – but knows better than to raise issues of Ben’s self-titled ‘weakness’ in front of his dad. He moves into his eye-line and smiles once more. 

“What’s up with you, grumpy?” Ian beckons from down the table. That, Ben hears, clear as day, soaring over all the other voices, and instantly turns to face an expectant Ian. “Cat gotcha tongue?” Instinctively, Callum reaches out a hand to reassure his boyfriend, and, with his anchor steadying him, Ben calmly and honestly replies,  
“It’s just difficult to hear enough to follow three conversations at once, that’s all. But I’m fine. Thanks for your concern, brother.” And an ever so slightly passive-aggressive smile spreads across his ‘grumpy’ face. But Ian quickly chuckles, sneers and a retorts,  
“You’ve got your implant thingy on your ‘ed. You’ve got your ‘earing back. What ya complaining about?”  
A smile is plastered across Ben’s face and he promptly apologises for being a ‘grumpy old git’, promising he will enjoy himself. But there is no way he can hide the sadness in his eyes from his soul mate. 

***

Stealing away from the crazy house, Callum and Ben decide to retreat to the relative calm of the Vic for some alone time. They stroll, hand in hand, through the quiet of the evening, a January chill in the air and the first flutter of snow begins to fall on the loved-up couple. They say not word. Callum strokes the back of Ben’s hand with his thumb while they walk through the empty square. Bliss. 

The Queen Vic is busy when they arrive. Callum stares down into Ben’s eyes, saying ‘do you wanna leave?’ without having to utter a word, but his partner just takes a deep breath, exhales, smiles and taps his protector on the bum. Anywhere is better than home, right now. 

The couple stay long enough to gather a throng of friends and the group share stories and memories of 2020 and resolutions for the year to come. This situation is usually Ben’s idea of hell, but he and Frankie have been shooting the breeze in BSL for hours and he’s almost forgotten his dinner table discomfort from earlier. In fact, he’s been so wrapped up in their little deaf world (his processor having been left at home) that he hadn’t noticed Callum laughing, joking and having a great time with someone Ben didn’t recognise.  
“Ben; Dan. Dan; this is my boyfriend, Ben,” Callum introduced the two, speaking and fingerspelling simultaneously.  
“I’ll get the next round. Same again?” Dan offers, and heads to the bar, leaving the boyfriends staring into each others eyes.  
“You two seem to get along well,” Ben observes, raising his eyebrows just enough to worry Callum as to his real meaning.  
“Yeah, well, we did spend a whole night together.” Callum reminds, quickly followed by, “FIXING THE ROOF. We spent the night together fixing the roof!”

Ben nods, considers the pair and adds,  
“It’s much easier for you to talk to him though, right? Easier than talking to me, given my...” he trails off, clearly avoiding the word ‘disability’.  
Callum reaches to grab Ben’s hand: a reassuring, loving touch always brings him back to earth, back to his senses, back to being loved. But Ben steps away, signs something to Frankie that Callum either doesn’t catch or doesn’t understand, and leaves the pub. Callum watches as Ben and Frankie sign and laugh their way right out of the door.  
Callum is left in a crowded bar and Dan returns, three pints in hand.  
“Where were we?” asks Dan. Callum turns and proceeds to chat, talk and generally put the world to rights until the last orders bell rings.


	4. Highway or Mitchell?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuart and Rainie, Callum and Ben double date.  
> Awkward.com

The two couples meet in the square, each grasping their partner by the hand and they share a moment. No-one speaks, but there is a collective understanding of how lucky they all are to have found the loves of their lives, regardless of the journey to being there.   
“So are you gonna be a Highway then, Ben?” Stuart blurts out, shattering the beautiful moment, in perfect Stuart style. But his outburst is instantly met with a very sharp, very painful jab to the ribs, Rainie smiling and laughing, in the vain hope of covering the awkward feeling hanging in the air. Ben replies by simply smiling and squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. The loving squeeze is returned; it’s their ‘I know’ recognition of each other’s feelings and requires no words. Their communication has moved beyond the need for speech. The double date heads for The Prince Albert – happy hour! 

Without thinking, and certainly without acknowledging, Callum leaves the seat in front of the window vacant for Ben, knowing that there’s no way he’ll be able to lip-read if any of them sit in front of the glaring light source of the evening sunset eclipsing their faces. Ben smiles and Callum pulls the chair out for his lover. Ben nods to his partner, increasingly amazed and thankful for how well he knows and adapts to his limitations, so that Ben doesn’t have to.  
“Awww, chivalry’s not dead yet then,” Ben jokes, placing his hand on top of Callum’s, on the back of the chair.   
“Does that make you the girl?” Stuart jumps in, yet another inappropriate question. But it’s simply dismissed by all parties. 

Stuart and Rainie scooch their chairs closer together and whisper inaudibly to each other, cheeks touching, fingers intertwining and both chuckling like 5-year-olds trying to hide a secret stash of sweets from their parents.   
“Rainie’s wearing my boxers,” Stuart announces proudly, while Rainie sits opposite Ben, smiling wide enough to out-do the Cheshire Cat. She says nothing, but jiffles in her seat. Stuart then adds, “And I’m wearing...”  
“Bruv! We don’t wanna know!” Callum swiftly insists, cutting his brother off before he has chance to finish his (what was undoubtedly going to be very weird) sentence. “Bleugh,” Callum shivers.   
“The silk feels nice, right?“ Ben adds, nudging Stuart and winking, encouragingly. 

***

Having ordered with Frankie at the bar, 8 drinks are delivered to the table: a selection of beers, wines and cocktails – well, it is happy hour, it would be daft not to, the couples justify. Another round arrives afterwards and the conversation flows, fast and witty, all four enjoying the comfortable, easy company of the evening.   
Across the room, Ben sees a face he vaguely recognises, but can’t place. A previous ‘date’, maybe? A friend of a friend? One of his ‘dodgy contacts’? He just can’t recall a name. Keeping half a mind on the chat around the table, Ben focuses the other half of his brain on the lips of the tall, dark, handsome, muscular man at the bar. His accent is thick, with a very strong East London lilt. It makes it hard to read perfectly, but one word is crystal clear: Callum. 

“...but, like, who does the red jobs and who does the blue jobs?” Stuart asks, as innocently as he can, but his query is met with yet another jab to the ribs from his wife. But they all recognise his harmless nature and his honest desire to just understand his little brother a little better.   
“They’re all pink jobs in our relationship, Stu,” Ben replies, coming back to the conversation at hand. They all laugh and down the shots Frankie has arrived at the table with, Callum smiling at his brother, acknowledging his attempt to grow closer, and loving him (in all his weirdness) a little bit more for it. 

***

Having had a skinfull at the Albert, the couples go their separate ways and Callum and Ben stagger home, kebabs in hand, to make the most of a temporarily empty house. Adamant that they’re not watching another classic movie musical, as they had every Monday night since the second lockdown (Ben’s continuing of Callum’s ‘Big Gay Education’) Callum unceremoniously grabs the remote and heads straight for the Netflix login, selecting the first film he comes across featuring men in tights, automatically scanning to select ‘English CC’ from the menu bar. Ben squeezes his knee gently (another silent recognition) and pulls his boyfriend in, closely, skin on skin. They remain in their embrace, falling asleep to the sound of the latest Marvel release. 

Credits rolling, Ben is rudely awoken by a buzzing feeling through the sofa and, coming to in a blur, realises it’s a phone vibrating. It quickly stops. A text then. Ben grabs for the phone which had been buzzing, but it’s Callum’s, not his. A check to see a softly snuffling Callum sleeping soundly beside him, Ben turns the phone over, not to read the message, that would be wrong, just to see who it is from, in case of emergency. The screen reads, ‘Dan mob’.


	5. In Case of Emergency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a night spent thinking about Callum with Dan and all the possible futures that could play out, Ben is all set to return to his old ways.  
> Even 'the shirt' has been dug out of the back of the wardrobe.

Having laid awake for most of the night, listening to the thrumming of his own heartbeat in his ears and playing out every possible scenario which could lead to ‘Dan’ texting Callum at half eleven at night, Ben flinches as Callum’s warm, sweaty hand reaches across the expanse and gently lays on his chest. Now skin to skin, Ben takes a deep, cleansing breath, his pounding heartbeat slows, his breathing becomes deep and purposeful and he feels the bed beneath him. He is where he is meant to be, with who he is meant to be with. He is home. For a few precious moments, the pair lay in perfect silence, Callum’s hand caressing Ben’s chest, the weight and yet softness of it anchoring Ben in the moment to prolong the ecstasy, and they coexist in their perfect bubble, where everything is as it should be. 

Then Lexi comes bursting in.  
“DADDY C, DADDY C, DADDY C! You left your phone downstairs and it’s been buzzing like crazy for ages! Someone called Dan wants a ‘hand doing a job’?” She drops the innocent comment into the room, flings the phone at the bed with a gappy grin and flounces out again, leaving the silence in the room no longer comfortable and safe but awkward and cold. Neither says anything but dresses, in silence, eats breakfast, in silence, delivers a peck on the cheek, wordlessly and the two go their separate ways, Callum in his uniform, Ben in what Callum recognises to be, his ‘sure-fire shag’ shirt. 

“Go get changed!” Lola demands as she catches Ben lifting the collar of his grey jacket and reaching for the handle of the kitchen door. “Go get changed!” she repeats, with fire in her belly and a look of disgust on her face – a look Ben is all too used to seeing on Lola, but much less so of late. “Sam or Tom?”  
“Ya what?” Ben questions, feigning innocence, but more than aware of what she’s getting at.  
“Your hook up: Sam or Tom? Or maybe it’s a new one? Make it a good one, mind. He better be seriously fit, massive and seriously know what to do with it!”  
“What the hell, Lo? Lexi’s in the next room!” Ben argues, quietly closing the kitchen door to muffle the sound of their conversation from the young, innocent ears that could (would) be listening in.  
“Well, I just think that, if you’re gonna ruin the best relationship you’ve ever had, with a bloke who loves you more than his own life and who you, Ben Mitchell, asked to move in with you, it better be with someone who’s bloody worth it!” and she unlocks the door, opens it and gestures outside for Ben to leave the house.  
“Oh, he is. He really is,” Ben defends and marches past her, slamming the door in her face. 

“Getting too much for you, is it? Lockdown with the boyfriend and the whole Mitchell clan?” Stuart interrupts on his way through the garden in the square, on seeing Ben deep in thought on Denny’s bench in the cold, winter morning mist. “Callum ain’t exactly the perfect house guest, I know!”  
“He ain’t a guest. He’s family,” Ben snaps in return, the words falling from his mouth without thought or preparation. On hearing the echo of his own defence of his boyfriend, he smiles and repeats, “He’s family.” Ben nods, a new realisation dawning on him, and the events, or non-events as he now realises, of the last 12 hours fade from his mind, the colour draining from the vivid imaginings of his partner leaving him for another man, until they feel nothing more than the memory of smokey scenes of a Film Noir. 

***

Stuck on desk duty, PC Highway has time on his hands and finds himself scrolling through pictures on his phone. Memories of good times before anyone had heard the word ‘Covid’, of hugs and parties, arguments and make ups. He loiters on a picture from a day which will live in his memory forever with pride and sadness in equal measure. The day he came out to his dad, and, by default, the rest of Walford. Callum’s vision blurs as he retreats into his memories. Eventually refocusing on the picture and coming back to consciousness, he notices a face in the crowd he recognises – a tall, dark, handsome, muscular man. Instantly, Callum’s heart flutters, his stomach drops and his palms sweat. He lingers on Dan’s face. And he lingers. His pulse quickens but he can’t decide why, but then his eyes move back to the side profile of Ben in the photograph and everything in him begins to relax.  
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost!“ a voice exclaims. It’s DI Dickhead – Callum’s affectionate name for his boss, DI Thompson. “That face is either guilt or desire. So which is it? Have you done something you shouldn’t have or done someONE you shouldn’t have?” DI Dickhead interrogates, asking questions well beyond the bounds of their professional relationship.  
“Neither, actually. It’s a picture of me and Ben.”

***

Strolling home, a new sense of peace filling his heart, head and soul, Ben is shaken from his daydream by his phone buzzing in his hand and a brilliant smile spreads across his face when he reads ‘ICE Cal’ on the screen. He places the phone to his CI receiver - a trick he’s learned recently (any concern for this action ‘looking stupid’ completely gone for want of talking to his lover) and both men speak at once.  
“I’m sorry.”


	6. It's my life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written in first person and is entirely from Ben’s point of view as a deaf person in a world affected by a global pandemic.
> 
> (NB - writer is deaf with hearing loss classified as 'severe' and is in a deaf/hearing relationship)

Lexi comes bounding into our bedroom, a little ball of curly, blonde energy, as she does every morning at 7am on the dot. She crawls up between Callum and me, laying on top of the sheets and snuggling into me, arm across my chest in tight hug that says ‘I love you’ without the need for words. Then she rolls over in one swift movement (taking half the covers with her) and repeats the cuddle with Daddy C, this time saying ‘I love you’ out loud. It’s not something we’ve ever told her to do. She just started doing it one day and Callum didn’t stop her. And I have to admit, my heart swells every time I see my little girl embrace the man I love and call him ‘Daddy’. Lola thought it would me make me jealous and tried to prevent her from using the word Daddy for him, but truth be told, I couldn’t be happier. My princess has 3 parents who love and cherish her. Some people never get that much love in a lifetime. I see the light from the TV fill the room, hear the muffled, gentle hubbub of the Go Jetters and consider my lack of hearing an absolute blessing. 

I love this time of the morning. My world is hushed and still, and I’m anchored by touch. I feel by baby bouncing on the bed in time to the theme tune. I feel my heart beating rhymically in my chest, reminding me to be grateful for my life. I feel the footsteps on the landing of my family preparing for another day. I feel Callum’s hand brush against my side and my skin crackles with his touch. Without sound, I can feel. Really feel. 

Breakfast is rushed, as usual. A hustle of cutlery, crockery, cereal, toasters, fridge doors and cupboards. Lexi is a whirlwind of cocoapops and Little Mix and my processor just can’t process fast enough to keep up with the festival of sounds so I pull out a manoeuvre I’ve been working on lately. I run my hand down the side of my head, ‘flattening my hair’ and surreptitiously unclick my processor and slide it down into my jeans pocket. I grin to myself and look up across the kitchen. Callum smiles back at me and does his standard wink/blink (God, I love that goofball). Damn. Caught. 

***

Work’s work and I’m thankful on a daily basis that I have Jay by my side. The office is quiet, the work can be solitary and the banter’s brilliant. Jay’s even learning some signs; not that we need them, working in a calm, quiet environment.  
“Do ya miss it?” Jay interrupts my thoughts, and repeats, “Do ya miss it? Ya know, your bad boy player days?” I consider the question for a minute and Jay mistakes my silence for confirmation.  
“I’ve been so uncharacteristically happy that I honestly haven’t thought about it in ages. Love’s made me soft!” I assert.  
But Jay probes, “What about Callum? He’s never been ‘on the scene’, has he? He's never been a player. Do you not worry that he’ll think he’s missin out if he settles for you?”  
“Settles? Thanks, bruv!” I protest and add, “But nah, Callum ain’t like that, except for this bloke he’s been texting. Dan.” And I trail off into thought.  
“I guess you’ll just have to give him plenty of reasons that the grass is greenest where he is the. Won’t ya?” Jay insists and I pull my most obviously sarcastic wink. “Eewwww, I didn’t mean like that! Although, if it works...” and Jay turns back to his screen, leaving me contemplating the green, green grass of home. 

***

There isn't much actual work to do, seeing as we're in the middle of a national lockdown, so Jay and I finish paperwork and tax forms, lock up and go. The wind outside on the square is blowing a gale. The noise in my processor is horrendous, like the sound of blowing into a microphone being played continuously and directly into your brain. Jay tries to make conversation but I catch so few words that making any sense of it is nigh-on impossible, even with watching his lips move while we walk. It's because of the roaring wind and my fixation on reading his lips that I don't hear my phone ring quietly in my pocket. 8 times. 8 missed calls from Lola. 

By the time I check my phone and rush to return Lola's call, the emergency is over.  
"Why didn't you answer? I've been calling non-stop! Why didn't you answer?" Lola yells over facetime, her face beetroot red and panic-stricken. "Lexi was choking, but don't worry, don't worry. She's fine now and happily using chocolate ice cream for its medicinal purposes." She explains. My heart drops through my chest and my stomach flips. My baby girl. Lola turns the phone to Lexi and she happily signs 'don't worry Daddy' with a big chocolate-smothered grin.  
"Don't rush home now," Lola adds, seeing the fear on my face, "she's fine. Honestly," and she hangs up. I'm left worried, upset and alone. I must have missed Jay saying bye and going on his way. I miss so much. I should have been there for my daughter but I missed the calls. I missed it.

Tesco still have the traffic light system in place, so I bide my time in a socially distanced, masked up queue outside until I reach the front of the line and finally get to shuttle around the shop for the few bits I need. I do my best to keep my head down and avoid eye contact with anyone. I even use the self service till, which I hate, just so I don’t have to interact with people. Linda happens to stroll down the dairy aisle just as I come the opposite way. She edges towards me and I know she wants to stop and do the supermarket small-talk thing but I smile and wave and carry on past her. I hope she gets it. 

By the time I get home I’ve had all manner of conversations with myself in my head. Jay’s comment about being a player still rings in my mind. I think about the times in my life I’ve been happiest and none of them were when I was playing around. Sure, that was fun and miss the thrill of dark clubs and Friday night hook ups with ‘Mr He’ll Do'. But happy, really happy? I picture the sofa in Pam and Les’ flat where Paul and I cuddled up the morning after my dad finally accepted me, us. I visualise the busy market and an innocent kiss to start our day the morning after I, ironically, went ‘straight’ for Callum. And it hits me: I’m happiest in love, and love is worth fighting for. 

***

Callum’s key clicks in the front door lock and I ready myself in the hallway. He steps through the door, closes it behind himself and I grab him and pull him into the tightest hug I can manage and I feel the stress of his day at work sink out of him. He relaxes in my arms and breathes out, like he’s been waiting for that all day. Finally releasing, he steps back, still holding my hand lightly.  
“Rough day?” I ask, and all he can muster is a nod. “Candle-lit meal just for two?” I offer, still holding his fingertips in mine.  
*Perfect,” he signs, recognising the tone in my voice that shows I’m not wearing my CI. He knows me so well and I don’t feel I need to try hard to be ‘hearing’ around him. He loves me for me, and I know that.  
Taking him by the hand, I lead him to the dining room  
And chicken pasta is waiting on the table


	7. It's my life, too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written in first person and is entirely from Callum’s point of view as the partner of a deaf person in a world affected by a global pandemic.
> 
> (NB - writer is deaf with hearing loss classified as 'severe' and is in a deaf/hearing relationship)

My favourite part of the day. I hear Lexi’s little slippered feet scamper across the landing, I hear the tiny squeak of our bedroom door handle and then I hear her bright, chirpy voice whisper, “Good morning!“ I softly graze Ben’s hand to gently wake him without startling him and Lexi unceremoniously throws herself onto our bed, as she does every morning, pouncing her way up the bed between us like a playful lion cub. Without warning, as ever, she hurls herself across Ben's chest and snuggles into him so tight she might squeeze the life out of him. Their daddy/daughter relationship makes my heart happy and I find myself smiling broadly, watching their embrace, their love, perfect and silent, with no need for words. Then, as she does everyday, Lexi rolls over, dragging the cover right off me. She launches her arm over me and hugs me as tight as she hugs Ben. “I love you,” she utters, and my heart feels like it could burst. She now calls me Daddy C, a title I neither asked for nor feel worthy of, but this moment every morning, when she hugs me exactly as she hugs her Dad, I pray for the world to stop turning so we can live right here, in this quiet love, forever.

The perfect silence of our morning routine is something I have come to cherish. In the still and the quiet, I’ve learned to appreciate the touch of Ben’s skin on mine, the warmth of our bodies snuggled in together and the sound of the three of us breathing, perfectly in sync. My perfect little family.

It’s my turn to get Lexi washed, dressed and fed this morning, which I manage with relatively little fuss, but I cave and let her pick her own outfit – black and white striped tights, a rainbow striped dress and pink hair bobbles ‘to match’. Just as I think she clearly got her dress sense from her mum, Lexi declares, “Rainbow. Pride from top to bottom,” and she grins so wide that light honestly shines out of her beautiful face. How can I argue with that?

Downstairs in the kitchen, everyone seems to have surfaced at the same time. I pour Lexi a huge bowl of cocoa pops, which earns me an evil eye from Lola and a warning from Phil that I’ll be responsible for the ensuing sugar-rush. Understood. Little Mix accompanies our morning, as usual, filling what’s left of the air in the room, between voices, cutlery, cupboards and ringtones. Across the kitchen I see Ben doing his ‘I’m just flattening my hair’ routine as he unclicks his CI and not so surreptitiously slides it into his pocket. He catches me watching and I offer a discrete wink of support. I get it. It’s loud in here and must be more so with a mic attached to your head. I say nothing about the manoeuvre, but face him to remind him to stop off at Tesco on the way home tonight. A kiss, a touch of hands and we go our separate ways for the day.

Work is work. Di Dickhead, sorry, Thompson, has me on beat duty, so I’m relegated to spending my entire day wandering the streets of East London in the freezing cold, the arctic wind whipping around every corner, chapping my lips and stinging my cheeks. By 11, my feet hurt and I’m tired of the false ‘Good morning’ smile I make over and over again to people on the street. ‘Engaging with the public’ is exhausting. But, as if knowing the monotony, isolation and loneliness of my day, my phone vibrates in my pocket – a much needed connection to real people.

As I take my phone out and see the text flash up on the screen, I can feel my face flush (thankfully they are already red from the chill of the wind, so my embarrassment is covered). I read aloud to myself, “12 o’clock, our usual place? D.” My heart flutters. The winky face at the end of message says all it needs to. Finally, my day is picking up. But there’s a pang of something in the pit of my stomach. It’s there every time he texts, but it’s a feeling I usually manage to push aside. Every day this week we have met for lunch – a crowded restaurant where we blend into the surroundings. It’s nice. To blend into a crowd and not have to think about light sources, noise levels, lipreading. It’s nice. It’s a change.

But today feels different. The excitement is there, the adrenalin pumps through my veins but there’s something else. My heart swells and the adrenalin is replaced by love and a feel of a memory of Ben’s hand on my skin. And suddenly I’m smiling for a completely different reason. Phone still in my hand, I call the station, cough repeatedly and exaggerate my ‘poorly’ voice. Afternoon off and I’m headed home, never so excited to see the love of my life and sweep him off his feet. God I love that man.

All the way home, I think about us; me and Ben. The difference between us can feel like a chasm, gaping and too wide to even attempt to cross. I swing from feeling pride and passion for the things I've learned and how I've grown in Ben losing his hearing, to guilt of finding it hard work and the pressure of being his connection to the hearing world. But suddenly I see the world through his eyes and recall all the times I've seen his face light up when I move out the light, touch his hand to ground him, face him to repeat. He glows with pride and gratitude. So by the time I round the last corner, all I feel is love. Being his connection, his support, is a job I'm more than willing, and bloody privileged, to have. He's mine. I'm his. Deaf or hearing, he's made me the man I am today. The man I'm supposed to be, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Ben’s there, in the hallway, waiting like an excited child on Christmas morning, as I step through the door. In his face I can see, what I can only describe as, pure love. Like a mirror, my own face reflects his feelings and there’s a moment between us where neither of us say anything. Then, without warning, he pulls me into the tightest hug. I can feel him, feel his heartbeat, feel his breath on my neck and his skin on mine. I shift my weight from foot to foot and he subconsciously does the same. We’re in sync and we hold the embrace for the longest moment, not wanting to ruin it. Never wanting to let go. We’ve transcended beyond the need for words there’s just this and it's perfect. I relax in his arms and breathe out, releasing the guilt and the tension.

Finally releasing, I step back, still holding his hand lightly. “Rough day?” he asks, and all I can muster is a nod. “Candle-lit meal just for two?” he offers, still holding my fingertips in his. I recognise the tone in his voice I know so well. He’s not wearing his CI. He doesn’t, when it’s just us. He doesn’t need to try around me. He doesn’t need to be part of the hearing world that takes so much effort for him to connect with. I meet him in his world, our world, and sign, ‘Perfect.’

Taking me by the hand, he leads me to the dining room.

And chicken pasta is waiting on the table.


	8. Goodbye Cedric, Hello Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone makes a choice, a mistake, which could have huge implications.

“All day. You. That phone. Stuck together. Whisper, whisper.” Ben signs, lips pursed, scowl deeply ingrained on his face. “Clearly, it’s more exciting than me!” he adds, silently accusing Callum of god knows what. A silence, laden and heavy, hangs in the air, filling the space between the couple, forcing them apart. 

The silence persists and Ben can see the cogs turning in Callum’s head, the blank look and fidgeting fingers a dead giveaway. But before he can think twice about not shoving his big size 9’s in his mouth, he blurts out,  
“Choosing your next words very carefully, are you? Fancy getting very well acquainted with the sofa tonight, do ya?!” But suddenly Ben stops, snatches a breath, narrows his eyes and pouts, clearly mocking his boyfriend – an action sure to go down very badly indeed. “Maybe it’s just too much like hard work, talking to me? Maybe you’d prefer it if I didn’t wear Cedric [Ben’s name for his CI] and I wouldn’t notice your whispered conversations, hey?” Ben hurls at Callum like daggers across a stage. 

He flings the bedroom door wide on its hinges so it slams angrily against the bedside table, knocking a half-empty glass of water over. Both watch the water, in slow motion, spill from the glass and gracefully arc towards Ben’s CI charging unit resting helplessly on the corner of the table. Ben reacts, but is too slow to prevent the inevitable carnage which is to follow, and the charger is drenched before he can do anything about it. Callum doesn’t move from the spot.  
“HAPPY NOW? Your wish has been granted!” Been spits at Callum with venom and malice and makes a deep, sarcastic bow, complete with flourish.  
“Fuck off!” Callum recoils incredulously. No sign needed. Ben gets that just fine. “Too far.” 

Seeing no point in keeping it on, Ben unceremoniously hurls Cedric the CI at the bed (knowing full-well that the duvet covers would cushion the landing and not actually do it any harm). Drinking in the peace of the unaided world, Ben takes a long, cleansing breath, but can’t seem to shake from his brain Callum’s last words before he flounced out of the room, which repeat like a record with a scratch in the delicate vinyl. “Fuck off?” Ben echoes. “Me? Fine,” and small but recognisable smile takes anchor at the corner of his mouth. Ben takes to his phone, scrolling, scrolling through names and numbers, each with a place, a face and a memory attached. Jake… Liam… Nick… Ryan.  
Sam. 

Ben is down the stairs in a heartbeat, but Callum is nowhere to be seen. Spurred on by the disappearance of his fiancé, and the assumption that he will blatantly run into the arms of a ready, waiting and willing ‘Dan’, Ben storms through the house like a force 10 hurricane, almost sending Lexie flying as he sweeps through the hallway, looking for his red and black coat. Lola yells something at the top of her lungs but, without his CI, Ben just hears noise, but he can tell she’s furious. She grabs him by the shoulder, pulls him round to face her and utters a warning,  
“Hurt my kid – don’t bother coming back.” Few words, short and to the point. Lola knows how to make sure Ben gets the message. But amongst the angst and hurt and anger, Ben feels a gentle, soft stroking on the back of his left hand. He doesn’t even need to look down to know what it is, but look he does, and there, looking up are the big, blue eyes of his baby girl, filled with sadness and worry. He takes her face in his hands, strokes her cheeks with his thumbs, then steps back and signs, ‘I’m sorry’. “Get Daddy C back,” Lexie replies and the pair touch noses and giggle. 

***

Out in the square, Ben video calls Callum, wanting to find out where he is, his hands trembling slightly at the prospect of the possible answer. Voicemail. A coffee and an iced bun later, in the perfect isolation of a bustling café and another video call. Voicemail. That possible answer looms larger and larger in Ben’s head and scenes play out in his very vivid imagination, scenes which Ben just cannot shift from his mind’s eye. A walk to the park and Ben finds himself on the swing where he had first seen the broken and shattered Callum crying in the rain, hurting himself, and Ben’s heart hurts like Callum’s battered leg, both at the memory of the moment and the thought of their fractured future. Video call. The phone answers and Ben’s heart leaps, a broad, bright smile spreading across his face. 

“Babe! Babe! Babe? Where are you?” Ben’s excitement turns to dread when the pixilated picture clears and it’s not Callum on the screen, but a wall? No, a ceiling, and the thousand images previously playing in his head come screaming back to him, but only one remains, crystal clear and complete with (entirely imagined) sounds: Callum’s phone on the bedside table of Dan’s bachelor-pad bedroom. End call. Ben scrolls back through his phonebook, remembering how far to scroll from earlier that day, and makes a new video call.  
“Sam. Long time, no see.”

***

[This paragraph is conducted entirely in BSL, but is transcribed into spoken English.]

“Before you say anything, Abi got my phone.” Callum offers, quickly and assuredly, knowing exactly what Ben would have spent the day thinking. “By the time I tried to call you back, she’d knackered the battery, so I came straight home to speak to you, to see you, to explain, to apologise, but you weren’t here so I ran around the whole of Walford looking for you, but you were nowhere to be seen, so I came back here...” Callum rambles at 100 miles an hour. The speed of delivery partly to make up for the awful way they had left things that morning, and partly because, if he was signing, Ben wouldn’t be able to jump in and tell him where he had been. Callum didn’t really want to know. 

"I didn't know where you were," Ben signs, quietly, reservedly, controlled. when Callum had finished.  
“Where did you think I was?” Callum replies, all the while, entirely aware of what Ben was thinking. It was written all over his face. Worry. Upset. Fear.  
“Dan?” Ben mutters, no sign included. As Ben saw it, Dan didn’t deserve a sign name. He hadn’t earned it. 

“I deleted his number.” Callum reassures with a smile, a timid look to the floor and a gaze straight into his lover’s eyes to let him know everything was okay. “This morning? I was ‘whispering’ with my brother. Rainie’s birthday’s coming up. Not that I was whispering – you just couldn’t hear me.” And Callum’s eyes instantly widen, realising the severity of his choice of words and the hurt they would cause. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he insists, over and over again, rushing over to Ben and taking his face in both hands, kissing his trembling lips and stroking the back of his head – Callum’s never-failing way of making Ben feel safe. 

“You smell different.” Callum signs as he pulls back, all the while keeping at least one hand rooted to his partner. They both need that connection right now.  
“It’s just a new aftershave. Some footballer’s new brand. Can’t remember who..” and Ben trails off, spinning away from Call and breaking that connection that was holding them together by a thread.  
“Where were you?” Callum questions, this time it’s his lip trembling, and his hands too, giving away his worry in his signs. 

“Early bed?” Ben pertly asserts, covering the tension in the air with his trademark innuendo. “I need a shower,” he adds with a wink.  
“I’ll come with,” Callum signs, and the pair make their way up the stairs in silence.


	9. Simon says

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How long can a secret remain secret?

Callum’s hand softy strokes Ben’s bare shoulder, gently stirring him from a deep, happy slumber. His warm, sleepy skin reacts to the tender touch of his lover, prickling with goosebumps running from the nape of his neck, down his spine and following the length of his entire body. Callum chases the goosebumps with the very tips of his fingers as his boyfriend exhales shakily. 

The pair are skin-to-skin in the silence of this perfect moment, breathing in sync, hearts beating as one, and Ben instinctively reaches his left arm behind him to take Callum’s hand in his and pulls it around himself. Callum squeezes tightly around the waist of his soul mate in an embrace that simply says ‘I need you’. 

Callum smiles to himself and breathes hot, clammy air onto Ben’s neck, causing another ripple of goosebumps to ride across Ben’s shoulders. Ben shudders; partly from the exhilaration of the breath on his neck and the excitement of what is to come, partly from the overriding sense of guilt which was, at that moment, flipping his stomach and racing his heart. 

The feel of Callum’s big, cool hands on his warm skin brought back the memory of Sam’s touch and panic rose in his chest, threatening to ruin this perfect moment. As if recognising the mental distance, Callum grounds Ben with hands wandering, exploring his fiancé’s body, and the two are lost the throws of passion for hours. 

With the freezing temperatures outside and a gloriously empty Saturday stretched before them, the men resign themselves to a ‘Netflix and chill’ day, taking over the living room, with regular intrusions from Lexi, navigating the TV to Disney Plus for the odd Toy Story short. 

Callum relaxes, his right leg stretching the full length of the plush, cosy sofa, his left foot warming on a cushion on the floor. Ben happily takes his usual place between Callum’s vice-like legs, snuggling his back against Callum’s chest, wrapping his man’s arms around him. 

And there they remain for the entire day, at a perfect angle so Ben can read the subtitles, body-to-body so he can feel the vibrations of Callum’s voice when he speaks and Callum can bring his hands around in front of his fiancé to sign. (Ben has not had his CI repaired yet - finally recognising the wonder in not having to spend every day processing sound. Ignorance really is bliss.) 

The couple make a chicken pasta salad lunch together at 12.30, working in perfect synchronicity to chop, pass, cut, boil and slice a family feast. The two work in the comfortable silence that only true love knows, needing no words, but functioning as a well-oiled machine. 

But still, Callum can feel Ben’s eyes on him occasionally, like he’s trying to read him or looking for an opportunity to say something. He can feel something weighing on his love, but both men remain in the quiet of their lunchtime routine, neither one wanting to rock the boat. Again; ignorance is bliss. 

After 2 more episodes of Drag Race and one of Gogglebox, both spent in increasingly awkward silence, Callum musters the strength to ask, “Where are you today? You feel so far away from me.”   
“I’m right here,” Ben signs. “I’m just...” He tries desperately to smooth over his own guilt, instead projecting it onto his partner. “I was so worried where you were. I thought you had... Dan. I thought you and Dan...” but he is interrupted by his phone buzzing on the arm of the chair and a cold sweat instantly breaks out across his forehead. Not wanting to rouse suspicion, Ben makes no move towards the mobile, which had since stopped vibrating. Clearly a text. Instead, Callum reaches for it, all the while, never breaking eye contact with his fiance, except for the two seconds takes took to look down at the incoming message. 

“You were worried where I was? But clearly, I should have been the worried one! Oh, Sam asked for round two.” Callum hurls the words at Ben with more hatred and anger than even he thinks he has in him and, with a emphatic wave of his hands and signed expletive so as not to be heard by their daughter, Callum runs from the room, from the house, a tear rolling down his face, which freezes and stings his hot face in the icy blast outside the door. 

***

A handsome man in a smart, grey suit walks into The Albert, a bar he has not frequented in well over a year, on the off chance of meeting his Mr Right, and sees a familiar face propping up the bar and teasing a larger and a whiskey chaser.   
“Long time, no see,” the gentleman offers, a hand patting Callum on the shoulder, startling him. But, after a moments shock, Callum face resolves to a smile. The two drink and talk for hours, seeing the sun set through the rainbow windows and watching the streetlights flicker into life. For the first time today, Callum feels relaxed, at ease, not tiptoeing on egg shells. He can be himself, with no worry or pretence (or communication barriers). 

“He cheated on me. We proposed to each other – long story – then he cheated on me. After everything we’ve gone through together, everything I’ve done for him, how I’ve CHANGED for him!” Callum confesses. “It all means nothing to him. I mean nothing to him. WE mean nothing to him.” 

Simon strokes the back of Callum’s head and Callum feels himself calm, his heart slow, and an easy smile spring to his face. “Last first date, huh?” and the pair spring from their seats, down their drinks and leave together. Callum sends a text on his way out the door. ‘Now we’re even.’


	10. Now we're even

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now even Lexi is keeping secrets.

Ben sits in the corner of the bustling cafe, early morning commuters queuing out the door, orders being bellowed across the hiss of the coffee machine, the clatter of pans and scraping of wooden chairs on the tiled floor. He is oblivious to the hubbub and commotion, for once appreciating the silence of his deafened world (CI returned but switched off), and sits unmoving and frozen in a trance induced by the phone screen staring back at his unshaven face from his sweating palm. Three words glare at him from the illuminated screen. Three words he doesn’t need to keep re-reading; they’re burned into his brain and etched in his soul. ‘Now we’re even’. But still he stares. In hope that they’ll change? In hope that they’ll disappear? Or just in hope that three more words will appear: I love you. But those words never come, regardless of how many times he refreshes the message. And every time the screen begins to dim, Ben feels another piece of his heart chip away, tapping the screen as if performing CPR to keep their love alive. 

Sensing someone’s presence, Ben looks up from the phone and to his right and sees the one person he has always run to in times of heartache. He breathes out, not noticing that he had been holding his breath and Jay places a firm, supporting hand on Ben’s shoulder. Jay looks into Ben’s tear-stained face, smiles and says,  
“Callum sent me.” With that, the East London hard man crumbles into his brothers arms like a house of cards in a storm. 

***

Stuart brightly answers the intercom phone, “Mr and Mrs Highway, at your service,” and instantly recognises the sniffle on the other end, his face dropping and sympathy setting in. “I’ll put the kettle on, bruv.”  
Callum trudges up the stairs, every step bringing with it the flood of a thousand memories: of cosy nights in, romantic breakfast in bed and blazing rows followed by mind-blowing make-up sex. When he reaches the summit, Callum lingers in the doorway, looming over his brother on the top step, before thumping down, shoulders slumped. “I think I did something stupid.”

***

“Good on ya, bruv!” the elder Highway celebrates, joyfully slapping Callum on the back, to the serious irritation of his brother.   
“Stu! This is the love of my life I’m talking about. And I might have ruined it! Don’t you care? Don’t you want me to be happy?” Callum’s voice trembles, and the question hangs in the air, shrouded in silence, as a single tear trickles down his face, leaking the truth and the gravity of his situation.   
“Then why do it?” Stuart probes, now gently soothing the spot on his brother’s back where he had slapped him, as though smoothing over the hurt it caused. 

“Because he did Sam first! I wanted him to know what it felt like to know that the love of your life had been wrapped up in the arms of another man. I wanted him to know that hurt!” Callum defends, the pieces of his broken heart falling as tear drops marking his face.   
“So it was tit for tat? Well, no not ‘tit’ exactly...” Stuart chuckles to himself, finding his own innuendo hilarious. His laughter was cut short by the stony, highly unimpressed look on his brother’s face staring up from his coffee cup. 

Stuart clears his throat,  
“You love the guy, right?”   
“No question.”  
“And he makes you happy, yeah?”  
“Even on our worst days,” the brothers exchange.   
“Then do something to remind him how perfect you are for each other. Show him you want to spend the rest of your life with him,” Stuart asserts, his voice calming and full of understanding. 

“I already proposed to him, well, we already proposed to each other!” Callum giggles quietly and a smile breaks the sadness of his face at the memory of that one perfect day. “How do I show him that this is forever? That he’s my future, my family?” and as he lifts his head, almost ready to give up, a sign outside the window catches his eye and a glimmer of hope flickers across his face. “Stu, I need your help. I’ve got an idea, but I need to make some calls. Can you go get Lexi for me? She needs to be in on this.” And finally Stuart sees the light spark back into life in his brother’s eyes. 

***

“This is all my fault.” The two brothers have relocated to the relative quiet of Denny’s bench. Face-to-face, they can talk easily, thanks to a newly repaired Cedric (the CI processor).   
“Yeah!” Jay confirms. “You and that bloody self-destruct button you have! What the hell possessed you?”  
“Jealousy? Worry? Protection? Take your pick!” Ben murmurs. “I honestly thought he was going off me, that he wanted to play the field. He’s never done that. He’s never done anyone else!”  
“Wow! Thanks for that!” Jay laughs away the seriousness of the situation.

“Life with me is always going to be hard work: my dad, my daughter, my deafness. I’m a package deal and not in Friday night ‘meal deal’ kinda way! I guess…” and Ben’s voice trails off. He shuffles his feet and stares at the ground, clearly uneasy in his own reasoning and impending honesty. “I wanted to give him a way out...” There’s a moment’s silence and both men just breathe. “...and he took it.” The magnitude of his choices weigh on Ben’s shoulders like a ten tonne weight, pressing down, crushing his lungs and forcing tears from his puffy, red eyes. “I don’t deserve him. And it’s clear he doesn’t want me,” Ben continues, resigning himself to a life alone, and reaches into his pocket for his phone, hovering over the number for ‘Cal’ with a little blue heart emoji, but eventually scrolling to the ‘S’ section. 

“Woah, woah, woah, woah! What are you doing?” Jay shouts, snatching the phone with force with one hand and slapping Ben’s head with the other! “Don’t be stupid! Well, more stupid than you’ve already been,” he added. “That man loves you - god knows why! He sent me here, didn’t he? But you’ve got to prove you’re in this for the long haul. You’ve got to put him first. Well, except Lexi, obviou...” But Jay’s thought train is cut short as Ben leaps from the bench, punching the air with the excitement of a puppy waiting to fetch a ball thrown for them.   
“THAT’S IT! You’re a genius Jay!” and he grabs his brother by the face, kisses him on the forehead and strides off towards 45 Victoria Road. Home. 

***

In the living room of the Mitchell house, later that day, Lexi jumps up and down, clapping and grinning from ear to ear, squealing like an over excited piglet.   
“Ssshhhhhhhh!” Ben mirrors the excited grin but hurriedly silences his daughter.

***  
In the park, both Callum and Lexi swinging in tandem on the tyres, Lexi kicks and screams like a an over excited piglet.   
“Ssssssshhhhhhhh!” Callum mirrors the excited grin but hurriedly silences the youngster.   
“I know something you don’t know,” Lexi sings, swinging higher and higher.   
“What?” Callum questions, incredibly puzzled by this statement. But Lexi makes a ‘zip’ action across her lips, then pretends to lock it shut and throw away the key.   
“Bliss!” Callum jokes, and a jubilant girl replies,  
“Hey!” and laughs uncontrollably. 

***

As the sun begins to set over the square, Lexi steers a reluctant Callum into the living room, positions him in front of the TV, then takes her place next to her dad and looks up into his eyes with a wink. 

“Now.” Ben commands and Lexi gets down on one knee,  
“Will you sign this form and become my legal guardian? Will you be my Daddy?” A shocked Callum’s stunned silence clearly worries the little girl and her broad, gleaming smile fades.   
“It’s all legal and above board,” Ben interjects, promptly, reassuring his partner that this is not just a stunt. “You can’t adopt her coz she’s already got two parents, but this is OUR family – you, me, Lex. This is real and this is forever.” He equivocates, but there’s still no word from Callum, and Lexi rises from the floor, her lower lip trembling as she tries desperately to conceal the tearing of her little broken heart. 

“How could you do this?” Callum finally utters, and quickly runs from the house, leaving the kitchen door wide open. An invitation to follow? Lexi assumes so and a cheeky smile spreads across her face. She’s read the signs, she knows precisely what Cal is playing at.   
“Daddy, Daddy, quick! You’ve got to go after him!” Lexi begs, grinning concern, tugging at Ben’s t-shirt. The excited puppy look clearly runs in the family. 

Steaming from the house, Ben powers through the courtyard and out into the square, where Callum is only just making it across the road. “7 minute mile, my arse!” Ben mutters under his breath. Ben and Lexi follow hot on Callum’s heels, in the orange glow of the evening sunset, to the front door of Number 3 Albert Square, where the baby Mitchel releases her dad’s hand and ascends the steps to take her place next to Callum, instead grabbing his hand and dancing with glee at the sheer confusion on Ben’s face.   
“Now,” Callum winks to Lexi and she gets down on one knee...again!

“Daddy, will you sign this form and own this house with Daddy C? Will you make us a family?”  
And there’s not a single moment of hesitation or silence before Ben yells, “YES!” and runs full pelt up the steps, embracing his daughter and his soul mate in a giant, never-letting-go, squeezing-slightly-too-tight hug, the little family descending into tears and laughter, only releasing when they realise they’ve grown an audience, now clapping and cheering the love of this perfect moment.   
“No more Sams or Simons...or Susans!” Callum chortles.   
“Fat chance of that!” Ben chuckles in reply, and the two men laugh in unison, gazing into the face of their lover and happiness radiates from both of them. 

Then, at the same time, perfectly in sync, the couple look down at Lexi, smile, look up and sign,  
“Now we’re even.”


End file.
